Dialogue: Now here's a tree we all should hug

By GARTH GEORGE

If New Zealand has a Black Stump, I've been beyond it. I've explored just about every nook and cranny of this country over a lifetime, including the deepest and farthest reaches of Fiordland, but since nobody lives there it really doesn't count.

Beyond this Black Stump there live people - not many, to be sure, but it is inhabited. I speak of the far north-western reaches of the Hokianga, an area which is considered of itself to be backblocks, and, in particular, the tiny settlement of Pawarenga on the shores of the little but lovely Whangapae Harbour.

Our journey through the Hokianga arose from a long-held desire to fill in one of the few missing pieces in our personal geographical jigsaw of our country.

Leaving Dargaville, we found ourselves under low-slung, rain-sodden clouds, so low in fact that at one stage on a ridge above the southern end of the Waipou Forest we were actually driving in cloud, fog lamps peering into visibility down to a few metres and speed down almost to walking pace.

It wasn't much of a welcome, really, but we pressed on down into the forest on a mission I've had in mind for years - to pay my respects to Tane Mahuta (God of the Forest).

Thus we traipsed in the rain along a well-trodden path through the trees and the undergrowth to meet this revered icon of Maoridom and, suddenly, there he was before us in all his might and majesty.

I have heard the expression "It took my breath away" thousands of times, but in 60 years of living it's only ever happened to me when I've dived into an ice-cold plunge pool after a sauna. My first view of this gigantic kauri, his crown stretching far above the forest canopy and with a girth to match, literally took my breath away.

I was stunned and humbled by the magnificence of this awesome example of God's creation and the thought that he has been living in the forest for anything up to 2000 years and might even have been a seedling when Christ walked the Earth.

And as I stood and stared I was conscious again of just how infinitesimal, fragile and fleeting are man and his years in the eternal scheme of things. Yes, my encounter with Tane Mahuta was a spiritual experience and, I have to admit, for all that it was uplifting I found it rather disconcerting.

My only regret is that it was raining by the bucketful and all we had between us was a street umbrella. Otherwise I could have sat and meditated upon that tree for hours and, in fact, intend to return to the forest to do so.

I thought to myself as we left just how puny and insignificant are our national emblems of the kiwi and the silver fern when we have the magnificence of the kauri all to ourselves as well.

I was reminded that I live in a country richly blessed by nature. And this unique kauri, venerated by Maori as a significant emblem of the spirit of our land, is now honoured by this Pakeha, too - and for the same reason: Tane Mahuta is part of my heritage as a New Zealander.

The expedition to Pawarenga was in the nature of a pilgrimage, for it was there that my wife's aunt - a Mercy sister for 65 years until her death aged 95 last year - served for a time in the 1980s.

She always spoke of the place with great fondness and when we finally found it, after driving via Punguru for kilometres up and down narrow, winding metalled roads, more suited to genuine four-wheel-drive off-roaders than our modern saloon, we understood why.

Here is peace, here is beauty, here is a part of the country where time has stood still. Sure, there are houses and cars, telephone and power lines, but you can shut your eyes and imagine that it's the 19th century and any minute a schooner will come though the harbour entrance fetching supplies and rigged to take stock off to market.

There is about the place a serenity that can come only from isolation from the urban bustle, noise, stink and clutter in which most of us live out our lives.

Pawarenga is one of the few places in New Zealand I've come across where the pub has been abandoned, yet there are 30 children attending the Catholic school, which has been there for 90 years and where Aunt Agnes lived some of her happiest years.

Whether there's a connection there I know not, but it was with a twinge of regret that we said goodbye to Sister Elizabeth and made our way back to what passes for civilisation.

* garth_george@nzherald.co.nz


PS: If you're ever in Whangarei around lunchtime, pop into the Mozart Cafe on Cameron St and order their potato and spicy sausage soup. In nearly 60 years of soup-eating, I've never had a better brew.